Wednesday's Child
by Inky8Fingers
Summary: John Winchester stumbles across a little girl in the woods and grudgingly takes her in as one of his own. Dean and Sam get themselves a little sister. Rating may change in later chapters. Read and Review :)
1. Chapter 1

**So I really like the idea of John accidentally gaining himself another kid, a little sister for the boys to dote on and protect, and out of this my little OC was born. I have a load more of this handwritten in a notebook which I'm going to gradually type up, mostly just the early days at the moment, so review and let me know what you think :)**

**For reference, Dean is 14 and Sam is 10, So theoretically, it's roughly 1993.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC.**

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Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath day

Is fair and wise and good in every way.

She was nothing but a scrap of skin and bones when John Winchester found her, half mad on the floor of a dirty old log cabin out in the woods near Gorham, Maine. He'd been following weird signs through the area for days, and what he saw was hardly comforting. It was like nothing he'd come across before... the dead man she was clinging to lay over a pattern burnt onto the floor. He could have sworn it looked like... wings? There was a knife wound running clean through him and a pool of old, congealed blood, half of it soaked into the little girl's clothes. Even the February chill couldn't mask the smell, so she had probably been there three or four, maybe even five days. It was hard to say, but she was in a bad way.

He put a hand over his mouth and nose against the stench and rushed forward to try and untangle her from the corpse, shoving his knife into the inside pocket of his coat.

"Daddy! NO!" She screamed, her tiny fingers gripped tight in the fabric of his shirt. John had to take the hand away from his face to pry her fingers out of the cloth, gagging as the smell hit the back of his throat. As soon as she was loose he gathered her up into his arms and stumbled out into the night, gasping for clean air. The filthy child in his arms still fought him, but she shivered violently, a mild fever combining with the cold and all she wore was a blood soaked t-shirt, her arms bare.

"Shhh!" He said urgently, pulling his coat around her and putting a hand over her mouth. He didn't know what was lurking in the woods around them, but if anything was there, the screams of a child was sure to rouse them.

"I'm trying to help you!" He whispered harshly. She slowly stopped struggling, eyeing him suspiciously.

"There, that's better. Now let's get you out of here." He muttered, looking round to get get his bearings before heading off in the direction of his car, which was pulled up on the nearest road, a ten minute walk away from the cabin. Though she had stopped screaming and struggling, the little girl never took her eyes off of John, sending him an unsettling glare. John glanced down at her and frowned.

"Don't look at me like that, Kid, your dad- whatever he was- is dead. I couldn't just leave you there." She didn't reply, just carried on glaring at him. He sighed and look ahead of him, catching the first glimpse of the impala through the trees.

He stopped outside the passenger side of the car and took one hand off of the girl in his arms to open the door. There was a moment of hesitation, not wanting to put the filthy mongrel on his seats, but he placed her in anyway, reaching over her to clip the seatbelt in place. He half expected her to try and bolt as soon as he stepped away from the door but she just sat belligerently staring at the dashboard, her arms crossed against her chest. She still gave the occasional shiver, so as he walked round to the drivers side he shucked out of his jacket, throwing it over her as he sat down. Hesitantly, not really wanting to trust him but longing for the warmth she knew it would provide, she pulled it up to her shoulder and settled herself onto the seat, her feet curled up under her. When she continued to glare at him, John huffed and started the engine.

"Don't say thanks or anything. Ungrateful brat." He muttered, pulling onto the road.

It was a good hours drive before they arrived back at the motel he'd left the boys at, and by the time he pulled into the parking lot the girl was fast asleep, still shivering, her face scrunched up into pained frown as her lips moved silently. In a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, John reached across and brushed a matted clump of hair out of her face. It was hard to tell what colour her hair was, if it was actually dark or just incredibly filthy. Quietly he opened his door and came round to lift her out of the car, placing her gently over his shoulder so he could use his other hand to rummage in his pocket for the motel room key.

Dean shot up off the couch as soon as John came through the door, but stopped short at the sight of the filthy sleeping child on his shoulder.

"Dad...?" He said quietly, unsure what to do or say. John closed the door behind him and came over to lay her softly onto the now vacant couch. He looked up at the younger of his sons, as Sam appeared sleepily at his elbow.

"Hey Sammy, can you make up some hot chocolate for our guest?" He asked as she began to rouse. Sam nodded, slightly bewildered and disappeared into the kitchen. John stood up and took a step back, not wanting to crowd the girl, who sat bolt upright and swayed slightly, her eyelids drooping.

"She has a mild fever, nothing to bad. I'm more worried about dehydration... possibly hypothermia." He told Dean, reaching out to put a hand on her forehead, but she scooted back and shook her head.

"It's okay kid, we won't hurt you." He assured her, reaching out again. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared but she stayed put, letting him check her temperature. He nodded and accepted the mug Sam was pressing into his hands, crouching down next to her again. She eyed up the mug and reached for it, but he shook his head and held it just out of reach.

"It'll be too hot still, let it cool down." He said, smiling slightly at the disappointed look she shot him. For someone so incredibly dirty, and who smelt so completely awful, she was actually kind of cute. Dean crouched down beside his dad and smiled kindly at her.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?" She stared blankly at him in response, so he tried again.

"Well, I'm Dean, old grumpy here is my dad John and that little scrap over there is my little bro Sammy." She glanced over at the little boy who was standing just behind the others. He smiled and gave her a little wave.

"So, you are...?" She shook her head and looked away from them all, huddling tighter into John's coat. Dean sighed and stood up, putting a hand on his dad's shoulder.

"We can't leave her in those clothes, it'll only make her sicker. I think we have some of Sammy's old stuff tucked away in the car somewhere, they'll probably drown her she's so tiny, but it's better than nothing." John nodded in reply and gave his son a small smile. He touched his hand to the mug of cocoa, checking it had cooled enough and held it out to her. She moved to take it but was too weak for it's weight, so she let the big man lift it to her lips and pour a little in. He only let her have a little, but the creamy, warm liquid hit the back of her sore, dry throat and made her splutter, soothing the ache. She put her hand on his on the mug and tipped a little more into her mouth but it proved too much and she choked, letting go of the mug to sit forward and let John pat her back with his free hand.

"Easy does it." He murmured, rubbing her back. The room door clicked open as Dean let himself back in, carrying a small pile of clothes in varying shades of beige and khaki. He came to stand beside John and placed the clothes on the coffee table, crouching back down beside her.

"Okay kid, here's the deal. You smell like road kill, and you are coated in god knows what. You can put these straight on if you want, but you'll feel a hell of a lot better after a warm shower." He told her frankly, tipping his head towards the bathroom.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He said, holding out his hand. Hesitantly she took it, letting him pull her up off of the couch and lead her out of the room. She curled her toes on the cold tile floor as he pulled a fresh towel from the shelf in the corner and pressed it into her hands.

"Now I can stay and give you a hand if you like, but to be honest I don't know who would be more embarrassed." He said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and chuckling as she huffed and shook her head indignantly, clutching the towel to her chest. He put his hands up in surrender and backed up to the doorway, leaning on the frame for a second.

"Good choice. But scrub up properly, ya hear?" He asked, giving her a smile. She nodded and stood rooted to the spot.

"Alright, I'll be right outside. Oh and Kid? Don't worry, you're safe with us."

With that he turned and closed the door behind him.

She rushed forward to click the door's lock and started pulling her clothes over her head, her teeth chattering. She stretched up to turn the shower on, holding her hand under the stream until the water ran warm and hopped in, just standing and enjoying the warmth for a while before she started scrubbing. The soap smelt cheap but clean as she rubbed it into her thick curls, lathering them up and wincing as it seeped into a couple of dirty cuts on her scalp. She kept on at them though, ignoring the ache as the water gradually started to run clear instead of a murky brown and red. She didn't really want to get out when she was clean, the warm water was so comforting and it was the first time in days the cold hadn't nipped at her skin, but she turned off the water anyway, wrapping herself in the huge towel, holding it around her like a big fluffy white cape.

She was just about to unlock the bathroom door and emerge when she heard muffled voices and pulled the key out of the lock so she could peek through and watch the conversation.

John was pacing a hole in the carpet, gesticulating wildly.

"She's not a stray dog Dean, you can't just crack a window and leave her in the car! She just a child, a child who needs a stable home, a family who-"

"We're a family!" Dean interrupted, coming to stand in his dad's path. The bigger man shook his head and perched on the back on the sofa.

"We're hunters, Dean! This is not a safe life for anyone, let alone a scared little girl who, after the last couple of days, is probably going to be in therapy half her life. We don't even know what she is! Her dad... it was nothing I'd ever seen before, Dean."

"Then surely with us is the safest place! We can figure out if she's a threat, and keep her away from anyone who wants to hurt her." Dean reasoned, but John stood up and stormed over to the phone, starting to dial before Dean caught up and grabbed the phone from him, slamming it back onto the hook. John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying to get his anger under control.

"Don't push me, boy-"

"Who were you calling?" Dean demanded, edging between his dad and the phone. John tried to push him aside but Dean stood his ground.

"Bobby... I need to know if he's got any info on what I saw, and maybe he'll know where we can safely get rid of the girl..." Dean didn't move away from the phone but crossed his arms across his chest.

"The safest place for her is with us dad!" He repeated.

"I already have enough on my plate raising you and Sam, I'm not about to take in someone else's child too-"

"I raised Sam not you!" Dean blurted. A stunned silence fell across the room as John visibly deflated, looking down at his feet.

"I shouldn't have... Sorry sir." Dean said, hanging his head. But John just sighed and rubbed his temple, his voice tired.

"No... you're right Dean. I haven't been much of a father to you boys the last couple of years. You had to grow up so fast... you should be chasing tail, not monsters."

"Dad that's not what I meant-"

"Let me finish. When I saw how you were with the girl... You are far too good with kids for a fourteen year old, and that's my fault. But taking in another kid, Dean? A supernatural one at that? I don't have the time to look after her so it'll end up being on your shoulders all over again, and I can't let that happen." Dean sighed and came to perch beside his dad, considering his response carefully.

"Then surely, if it's all going to be on me... isn't it my decision?" He raised an eyebrow and looked over at his dad, who was grasping at straws.

"Someone's bound to come looking for her, family, friends..." There was a pleading note to his voice but the fight was long gone from him.

"No they won't... sir." A timid little voice rasped. Both hunters turned to look over at the bathroom doorway where is damp curly head was poking out.

"So you can talk! You okay kid?" Dean asked, moving to get up. She ignored him and appeared from behind the wall, still wrapped in the towel. She put her back to the wall for support.

"Nobody will look for me..." She said, her face set. She opened her mouth to say something else but closed it again, a fat tear making it's way over her pale cheek. She swiped at it furiously with the corner of the towel and looked hard at John.

"My dad was a monster, wasn't he?" She asked.

Dean glanced at his dad and shook his head.

"Well, it's complicated, we don't know-" Dean started, but John put a hand on his son's arm and nodded.

"Yes." He told her plain. She frowned and nodded.

"But he was all I had left. He was always saying someone was chasing us, so he hid us pretty well... No one will look for me, there isn't anyone left to look."

John got to his feet with a groan and walked over to the little girl, placing a comforting hand on the top of her head.

"You're a brave little thing... What's you're name kid?" He asked. She looked as if she was about to refuse again but changed her mind and as if she was imparting her biggest secret whispered to him. "Hope Eddison." John chuckled and crouched down in front of her.

"Hope? Well, I could use some of that these days. How old are you, Hope?"

She puffed up her chest a little and smiled for the first time.

"Eight years and three months." She replied, but the moment was ruined as she shivered lightly. John reached forward and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her up.

"Come on, Kid, let's get you dressed before you catch another chill." Dean walked forward with the stack of clothes and crouched down beside the two of them, picking up a t-shirt and gathering it at the neck so he could pull it over her head and down to her knees. The coverage allowed her to drop the towel underneath the top and pull the pair of pants he offered her up to her waist. The sight made both hunters chuckle as Dean lent forward to roll the legs up and passed her a belt. She blushed and cinched it around her waist, letting him drape an enormous, faded sand coloured hoody around her shoulders. She poked her arms through the sleeves, her hands never appearing and pulled it close around herself, the old, musty smell oddly comforting. She shuffled her feet awkwardly and reached forward to fist her hand into the front of John's shirt.

"Please, Sir, don't send me away... I want to stay with you! I can look after myself I promise. Me and my dad were running for so long and he was always away so I learnt to take care of myself... Please don't give me to the police... Sir." She begged, blinking to stop herself from crying. Jhn sighed and looked down at the hand gripped in his shirt.

"Just call me John, kid... It's not that simple I'm afraid, we can't just keep you..." She nodded and stared intently at her feet, letting go of his top.

"This town won't be safe for you any more though," He continued, tired. "So we'll take you somewhere you can start a new life. For now, why don't you get some sleep?" He tipped his head towards the empty bed by the window but Hope shook her head and looked over at Dean who had retreated to perch on the edge of the table, his legs crossed at the ankle. John stood up and took a step back, letting her shuffle over to Dean and hesitantly wrap her arms around his waist. Dean sent his dad a disappointed look and bent to pick her up, rubbing her back as he carried her over to the couch and settled her on his lap. He switched the t.v on, keeping it at a low volume so as not to wake Sam, who had grudgingly gone back to sleep while Hope was in the shower, and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over both of them. Hope barely made it through five minutes of an episode of X Men before drifting off to sleep, but Dean continued to card his hand through her thick hair until he too fell into a restless slumber.

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**Thanks for reading! If you have a moment I would love to hear from you, so please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's chapter two! Thank you to the people who gave me a favorite or a follow, and especially to those who reviewed! **

**I can't promise all my updates will be this fast, I just happened to have this one hand written already, it was a case of just typing it up, but hopefully I can keep on top of things! Also, I forgot to mention in chapter 1, that I am English! I have tried to use American terms and spellings, but a few English ones might slip through here and there... **

**Any way, enjoy!**

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Hope shifted from foot to foot, the cold from the pavement seeping through her socks. The left shoulder of both her over sized t-shirt and hoodie had slipped down on one side, exposing her pale skin to the cold February air, while her hands were completely engulfed by her sleeves. She was stood between Sam and Dean while John lent out the window of the impala. He pressed a wad of cash into Dean's hand and gave all three of them a stern look.

"Okay, I'm just going to do a quick check of the area, make sure I got all of those vamps cleaned up properly yesterday. I will be gone a couple of hours max and as soon as I get back we're outta here. It's 8 in the morning, how much trouble can you possibly get into? We need to find somewhere safe to drop Hope." He didn't miss the way Hope seemed to shrink in on herself slightly, or how Dean slung an arm casually around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

"You might as well be useful while I'm gone, so I need to you to do a supply run. We're pretty low on just about everything, so buy salt, lots of it. Oh, and we can't send Hope out into the world looking like that. Use some of that money to get her kitted out. Be safe, look out for each other. Sammy, don't let Dean buy any more skin mags, his collection is getting out of hand." He grinned and started to drive off, before remembering something and reversing back.

"Oh, and if anyone asks why she isn't wearing shoes... improvise?"

The car sped away, kicking up a cloud of gutter dirt. Dean coughed and wafted a hand in front of his face.

"Thanks dad..." He muttered, shoving the wad of money into his jacket pocket.

"Right, let's get to work." He turned and stalked into the store, Sam and Hope following close behind him like ducklings.

Hesitantly, Hope ran her fingers through the soft white cotton of an embroidered summer dress and sighed. It was so pretty and girly... She looked down at the varying shades of beige she was currently drowning in and tightened her grip on the dress.

"That's pretty." She turned to see Sam standing behind her with his hands jammed into his pockets. He gave her a lopsided smile and came to stand beside her, looking up at the dress.

"Though not very practical... Plus, you know it's February, right? You'd freeze..." Hope looked away from him in embarrassment, letting go of the dress to shove her hands in her trouser pockets.

"I know... I just, don't remember the last time I got to wear a dress. We were always running, so dad didn't let me have pretty things."

She gave it one last look of longing and grabbed a pair of jeans instead. She threw them into the basket at her feet and added a practical plaid shirt, a plain long sleeve top to go underneath for warmth, some socks and underwear and a pair of little brown lace up boots. She was just about to reach for a jacket, when the musty old smell of Sam's hoodie wrapped around her made her change her mind. She looked nervously over at Sam who was flicking through a comic, bored. "Can I- Can I keep this? To remember you guys?" She asked shyly, wringing her hands inside the sleeves. Sam smiled and put the comic back on the shelf so that he could walk over and wrap his arms around her. Initially she panicked and flinched, trying to pull away, but Sam held tight until she settled into his grip, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Of course you can." He whispered, tilting his head back a little so he could reach to rest his chin on the top of her head. They were both small for their age, but the two years he had on her gave him a little extra height.

"I wish I could keep you... I always wanted a sister." Hope blinked furiously to hold back tears and nodded agreement. She wanted to tell him she'd always wanted a brother too, but to say it out loud would make it even harder when she didn't get what she wanted.

"Ew, get a room." Dean joked, appearing behind them pushing a shopping cart heaped with supplies, including four big bags of salt. Hope jumped away from Sam and scowled over at the older Winchester, stalking away.

"What?! I was kidding!" He called after her, heaving the cart into motion to try and keep her in sight. Sam grabbed the basket she'd left behind and rushed after Dean, a little unbalanced by it's weight.

"Hope! Don't run off!" Dean shouted, but as soon as he rounded the corner he spotted her big brown curls standing over by the checkouts her arms crossed in front of her in defiance.

"Why it's not like the checkout girl is going to eat me." She said sarcastically as Dean pulled the cart up next to her. He looked the young woman up and down and cocked his eyebrow."She might..." Hope frowned and tilted her head to the side in confusion, but Sam came to stand next to her and shook his head. Hope didn't take the hint and tugged at Dean's sleeve.

"Why would she eat me? She looks nice... and her name is Sandy, people called Sandy don't eat other people." She said loudly, making the girl in question look down at her and chuckle, her blonde ponytail bobbing sweetly.

"Because you're so cute, that's why!" She joked, starting to scan through the items Dean was unloading on to the counter. She lent over to heave one of the bags of salt towards her and did a double take when she noticed Hope's feet.

"Umm, sweetie, why aren't you wearing any shoes...?" She asked, suspicious. She looked at Dean disapprovingly and caught the eye of her manager. Dean hastily slung his arm around Hope's shoulder and pulled her close, smiling as charmingly as any fourteen year old boy could.

"Oh umm, our dad lost her suitcase. We're on holiday..." She raised one eyebrow at him.

"In Gorham...?" She asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh, our dad travels for work, so he takes us with him sometimes, and her suitcase must have fallen out at a gas stop somewhere... You know how it is, Sandy." He grabbed the basket of clothes out of Sam's hands and placed it on the counter in front of her.

"That's why we came, to get her something other than hand-me-downs!" His laugh was nervous, but he seemed to exude a certain arrogant confidence. The manager appeared at the girl's elbow looking bored, but after a moment of careful consideration Sandy looked up at her manager and smiled.

"Sorry Janet, and Item wouldn't scan but I fixed it." She lied, picking up the pair of jeans and scanning them through.

All three of them gave an inward sigh of relief as the manager grumpily strolled off, glaring at them as if they were about to shoplift.

Once everything was packed back into the cart and Dean had handed over the money, getting a few coins back in return, he thrust the bag containing her new clothes and shoes into Hope's hands.

"Right, go get changed before someone calls child services..." Dean parked the cart up by a bench outside the customer toilets and sat down. Sam dropped down beside him with a huff, bored.

"How long until dad gets back? I'm bored..." He whined, scuffing his feet across the floor. Dean didn't bother replying, just cuffed him lightly round the back of the head and looked back at Hope.

"We'll be waiting here, but be quick, It's not safe to split up. "

Hope nodded and scampered away, clutching the bag to her chest. As fast as she could, Hope shut herself in a stall and swapped outfits, shoving Sam's old clothes into the bag and jamming her feet into the little boots. Nervously, she poked her head out of the stall door to check she was alone in the bathroom and ran over to the mirror. She gathered her thick curls at the back of her head and secured them there with an elastic, produced from the bottom of the bag. It wasn't very neat, but she'd never had a mum to teach her how to do the girly things, and her dad certainly hadn't either, so it would have to do. She retrieved Sam's hoodie from the top of the bag and slung it back around her shoulders, turning on her heel back out of the bathroom.

When she emerged Sam and Dean were having an argument about Batman. It was the first time she'd seen them act their age, it was nice.

"No, because the Joker would have set a trap for him. Batman is smart, he would know that. So why didn't he use that to his advantage and sneak up on the Joker and stab him?" Dean demanded, gesticulating wildly. With all the wisdom of his ten years, Sam shook his head.

"Because then he'd be dead Dean... and they wouldn't be able to use that villain any more..." Dean raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms sullenly.

"Well I would have stabbed him..." He muttered belligerently, making his little brother smile. Hope didn't really want to disturb their moment, guessing they must be rare, and quietly tucked her bag of clothes into the back of the shopping cart, strolling off to look around.

She was ambling aimlessly down the canned goods aisle when a manicured hand gripped her shoulder tight enough to make her yelp and spun her round. She stumbled and dropped heavily onto her behind, looking up at Sandy the checkout girl from earlier. There was something different about her though, something awful in the way she smiled down at her.

"And I thought this place was going to be boring, I complained when they told me to stick around here in this dreary little town." She bent down to grab one of Hope's ankles and pulled, making her slip off of her elbows and smack her head on the cold hard floor. She cried out and raised a hand to the back of her head, but the check out girl just laughed and looked down her nose at Hope, her pretty blue eyes flicking to black. Hope screamed and reached up to claw at the hand gripping her ankle but Sandy just gave her a shake, like a terrier with a rat. She inhaled deeply and groaned.

"Oh my, girly, you smell..." She inhaled again, her eyes fluttering as her head tipped back in pleasure.

"Heavenly..." She tightened her grip on Hope's ankle as she kicked and struggled, dragging her across the slippery floor of the deserted aisle.

"DEAN! SAM! HELP ME!" She screamed, trying again to loosen Sandy's grip on her leg, but the girl dug her perfectly manicured nails deep into Hope's tender skin, making her wail again.

"Oh boy! Am I going to enjoy tearing you apart princess." She laughed as Hope tried to turn in her grip onto her front, her fingers scrabbling hopelessly along the shiny floor for grip.

"Please! Let me go!" She begged, still struggling. A couple of people had gathered at the end of the aisle but nobody moved to help. She was looking up at them imploringly when Dean came hurtling around the corner, reaching into his coat pocket.

"Dean!" Hope screamed, relieved. Dean drew close and produced a silver hip flask with a crucifix on it, grabbing Sandy by her hair and dumping it's contents on her face. She screamed and let go of Hope, who instantly shot up and held her fists in front of her, shaking.

Dean was impressed but grabbed her hand and ran, dragging her behind him.

"Lovely sentiment but she would destroy you..." He told her, gripping her hand tighter and pulling her up as she stumbled, but continued to run. There was a look of determination on her face as they threw themselves out of the shop's doors and into the parking lot, where John was helping Sam load the supplies into the trunk of the car. John saw them running and shoved Sam behind him, fishing his knife out of his coat pocket as the checkout girl burst screaming out of the doors behind them.

"Dad! Demon!" Dean shouted, running past him to thrust Hope into Sam's arms and grab a book out of the trunk. He opened it to a well thumbed page and ran over to his dad who had her pinned on the floor.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te ... cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare... Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis-"

He started reading but in between screams, the demon laughed and looked up at him.

"Don't bother, I was leaving anyway." She said coolly and threw back her head, screaming as a cloud of black smoke burst out of her mouth and up into the sky. John rushed to get off of the girl before she woke and helped her to sit up.

"Are you okay miss?" He asked,brushing the gravel off of her uniform.

"You slipped and hit your head on the floor, you were out cold!" He lied, letting her put her weight on him to stand up, confused. She put her hand to her head and frowned.

"But I- I remember... Oh no! Your poor daughter! I didn't know what I was doing! Is she okay?!" She started to hyperventilate, panicking. John helped her over to the bench outside the shop and shook his head, pointing at the little mop of curls peering nervously round the trunk of the impala.

"You really must have hit your head, she's fine. Nothing happened, you were just helping the kids bring out the shopping and you tripped. Perhaps I should call you an ambulance..." The girl shook her head slowly, dazed.

"No... No thank you, I'm fine, I think... I should get back to work... Thank you." John nodded and stood up.

"Well, if you're sure. Take care miss." As he was walking away she looked down in confusion at the blood under nails from Hope's leg.

"Quick. Get in the car." He murmured to Hope and the boys, slamming the trunk shut on his was round to the drivers side. Dean bustled Sam and Hope into the back seat as fast as he could without looking suspicious and joined his dad in the front, barely getting the door closed before the sped away. He turned in his seat to check on the kids behind him and frowned.

"Hope? You okay?" He asked sternly. There were unshed tears in her ears and she clutched the back of her head with one hand. He glanced down at her ankle and saw a spot of blood on her jeans. She nodded silently, her lip wobbling slightly, but she clamped her teeth into it, refusing to cry.

"You hit you head?" He asked. She nodded again.

"Okay, is it bleeding? Do you feel nauseous or sleepy?"

"I'm fine Dean!" She replied, frustrated. She didn't want sympathy, she'd had worse on the run with her dad. Dean faced forward in surrender, putting his feet up on the dash and immediately getting them slapped down by his dad.

"Woah, I was just checking your not concussed..."

Hope felt a little hand on hers and looked over at Sam, who was holding out a tube of antiseptic cream and a box of band aids.

"I'm really fine-"

"You don't want to get blood on your new clothes, we just got you looking respectable." He smiled kindly at her and signalled for her to put her foot in his lap. Grudgingly, she obeyed, turning herself so her back was to the window. With gentle, practised hands he rolled up her pants leg and uncapped the antiseptic. It wasn't much of a wound, just four little crescent shaped gouges around her ankle, but the girl's nails had been long, so the cuts were deep. Hope flinched only slightly as he rubbed the cream in, clenching her fists inside the sleeves of her hoodie. Band aids applied, Sam pulled the leg of her pants back down and patted her shin.

"There, all done." He said as she lifted her leg off of him, but stayed twisted towards him slightly.

"You're really good at that..." She said quietly, watching him pack the first aid kit away again and tuck it back under Dean's chair. Sam chuckled and pulled one leg under him so he could sit looking at her.

"Yeah, you have to, the life we lead."

A silence fell over the car for a while, before john's hands tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking quietly.

"What the hell happened back there?" He demanded, the cool calm of his voice making Hope retreat into her corner.

"I'm sorry Sir, it was my-" She started, but Dean spoke over her.

"It must have been the salt. Sorry dad, she must have seen how much salt we were buying and guessed we were hunters. She jumped us as Hope came out of the bathroom." He lied. He caught her eyes in the rear view mirror and this time she took the hint and nodded agreement. She was so embarrassed she'd wandered off... Plus, the demon had said it was her smell that attracted her, that she smelt... heavenly. Without realising it, her hand had twined together with Sam's, squeezing it for comfort. He returned the gesture, continuing to look out of the window.

John smacked his hand on the steering wheel and swore loudly, making all of them flinch. He glanced at her in the mirror, his eyes hard.

"Well we can't drop you in the next town over any more, not if demon's have your scent. We need to get some distance down, so I'm afraid you'll have to stay with us a for a little longer I'm afraid." She nodded, terrified, earning her a gruff sigh in response.

"I'm not gonna bite, Kid. Calm down."

"Yes sir." She replied quietly, and he once again glanced at her in the mirror.

"And that's another thing, Hope. To save on confusion and make it less likely someone will think our situation is suspicious, while you're with us you're going to have to call me dad. I'm sorry, I know it's not ideal but it won't be for long." He kept his eyes on the road, missing Hope's nod and she blushed and looked out of the window, embarrassed.

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**Thanks again for reading! Tell me what you think :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Just a short little chappie. Chapter 4 is ready and typed up so i'll probably post that after work tomorrow. Thanks again to all the fantastic people who are supporting this story! **

**Enjoy :)**

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"Okay, Hope and Sam you take that bed, Dean you take the other, I'll be on the couch." John said tiredly, dumping his duffel next to the couch in their new dingy motel room. Hope looked around uncomfortably at the peeling brown wallpaper and matching dusty brown shag pile carpet. They'd been driving all day to put some distance between themselves and Maine and all Hope wanted was some fresh air and somewhere to run around and stretch her legs. Clearly room 37 at the Garwood Lake motel was not the place to do that. She was tired and stiff, but at the same time there was only so much sitting still any eight year old can do before it to much and she started screaming. She couldn't say anything to John, who yawned as he tried to work a kink out of his own shoulder, wincing slightly as he hit a healing hunting wound. Dean didn't seem to be complaining either, he just flopped onto his bed and passed out, his boots and coat still on. Sam however took one look at her and set about rummaging in his bag. Hope drew closer out of curiosity and sighed in relief as he produced a box of colouring pencils and a pad of paper, waving them at her. She nodded and followed him into the little kitchenette, hoisting herself into the chair next to his at the rickety table.

"Sometimes dad forgets we're kids..." He told her quietly as he tore out a page from his pad and passed it to her, emptying the box of pencils onto the table.

"He means well, I promise, he just gets angry sometimes. It's been hard for him, looking after me and Dean since our mum died. He's a hero you know, he hunts monsters." He said proudly, puffing his chest out a little as he began to painstakingly draw the outline of a car. Hope didn't reply, just stared at the blank page in front of her. So much had happened in a day, she didn't feel like she could just draw some flowers, or a house... Sam continued to chunter away to her but his concentration remained on his artwork.

"Uncle Bobby bought me these pencils last time I went to stay with him. You'd like uncle Bobby, he's a hunter too, except he doesn't make us practice shooting all the time like dad. He's not our real uncle, but I wish he was. He always says family doesn't end with blood though..." He chattered away at her as she finally put pencil to paper and began to draw.

Dean woke drowsily in the middle of the night and glanced over to the bed beside his where Sam was fast asleep, snoring gently, his legs twitching slightly like a dreaming dog. Dean smiled to himself and closed his eyes again. It took him a moment to work out what was wrong with this image, and sat bolt upright, searching the room for Hope.

"Hope?!" He whispered desperately, not wanting to wake his dad, who was passed out on the couch, one hand gripping the gun under his pillow. When there was no response he gently placed his booted feet on the floor and as quietly as possible tip-toed around the room. After a couple of minutes of blindly stumbling through the dark motel room, he swore under his breath, rubbing his bruised shin. She wasn't there. He was just about to steel himself and wake up his dad when his eye caught an unusual shape underneath the kitchen table, and upon closer inspection, found it to be Hope, curled into a foetal position around a slightly crumpled sheet of paper. Dean pulled one of the chairs out of the way and dropped onto the floor, settling cross-legged beside her so he could ease the piece of paper out of her hands. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake.

The drawing was childish, and not particularly good even taking into account her age, but it was recognisably Sandy the checkout girl from that morning. Except, underneath the big blonde ponytail her eyes were pitch black scribbles and her fingernails claws. She really was a brave little girl, the first monster she meets is a demon trying to kill her and she says nothing, didn't complain about her injuries. She must have been terrified... It wasn't exactly an everyday event for your average eight year old. He reached out and softly wiped the beads of sweat that had gathered on her brow, partly from the remnants of the mild fever she was fighting but also from the nightmare that was making her mumble quietly in her sleep. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately tried to back away, smacking her head on the underside of the table. Dean put his fingers to his lips to stop her from crying out and beckoned her closer. There was a drowsiness to her hesitance as she slowly shuffled over to him and nestled her head into his lap, letting him rub the sore spot in her hair. He placed the sketch into her hands, smiling as she looked up at him, confused.

"Do you want to talk about this morning?" He whispered. She nodded but kept quiet.

"Okay, where to start... Well, we hunt monsters, not really Sammy, he's too young, and I mostly stay at home with him but sometimes dad takes me with him. That lady today was a demon, they're pretty nasty but holy water burns them and you can make them go away with an exorcism, which is like a spell, in Latin." He looked down to make sure she was keeping up and found two big blue eyes staring intensely back at him.

"Will she come looking for me?" She whispered, her mouth set in a grim line. Dean desperately wanted to say no, but the chances were, if the demon had her scent, all it had to do was smoke into a new meat suit nearby.

He was clearly taking too long with his reply because Hope jabbed him in the stomach a couple of times with her bony fingers.

"Well?" She demanded. Dean sighed, she may only be eight but she could take it, and she deserved to know.

"Maybe. But we won't leave you anywhere you won't be safe, I promise. The demon will probably loose interest in you anyway to be honest, but we will protect you."

She looked sceptical and sat up, pulling herself out from under the table so she could settle herself completely on his lap, her head tucked between his neck and shoulder.

"So I'm safest with here... I won't go. I'll stay with you." He felt her grip on his shirt tightened and smiled. Though he couldn't see her face he knew she would have that determined look he'd come to expect from her.

They sat there quietly together until he started to get cramp in his butt and patted her on the back, signalling for her to get off of him. He used to the table to pull himself up, groaning as his knees clicked.

"Come on kid, into bed with you." He put a hand on her shoulder and led her over to the bed Sam was sprawled across, gently rolling him onto his side so that Hope could climb in next to him. As if he sensed her presence, Sam curled himself around her, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Dean grinned and tucked the duvet tighter around the two of them and dropped onto the vacant bed beside him, kicking off his boots. He was just settling himself down under the covers, burying his head into the pillow when a little voice drew him back from the brink of sleep.

"I'm sorry I wandered off... and made your dad angry... Don't let him send me away." Hope whispered.

"Go to sleep Hope." Dean grumbled, pulling the duvet over his head.

"Okay..." Was her muffled reply. There was a smile on Dean's face as he finally drifted back to sleep.

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**Thanks for reading! Please review if you have a moment :) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again! So here's chapter four, and I think this might already be the longest fic I've ever written... Daunting! I'm generally a on-shot writer, so if you, my lovely readers wanted to give me some suggestions on where you want to see this going I would absolutely love it! I'm planning on making each chapter a little snippet of their childhood until their all over 18 and pick up properly again from there, so now is your chance to have your input :) **

**Any way, please enjoy, and if you have a moment at the end, tell me what you think! **

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**One Month Later**

Dean gently repositioned the pistol In Hope's hands and took a step back, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Okay, Just turn your body forward a little more, that's it. Now, when you're ready, remember don't rush, take a deep breath." He said soothingly as Hope nodded and frowned in concentration. With only the tiniest of flinches she pulled the trigger, the bullet flying just left of the empty soda can and thumping into a tree behind it. She turned to look at him, her brow furrowed in disappointment as he chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't give me that look, that was a really good shot." He cam forward and took the gun from her, clicking the safety on and tucking it back into his belt. There was a dramatic sigh from behind them as Sam turned the page of his comic particularly loudly.

"What?" Dean demanded, flapping his arms. Same just sighed again and turned another page, raising an eyebrow. Dean stormed forward and grabbed the comic, holding it just out of Sam's reach and putting the other hand on the smaller boy's forehead so he just flailed uselessly.

"What Sam?!" He said again, earning himself Sam's well practised bitch-face.

"Dad's gonna flip if he finds out you're teaching her to shoot. The gun's meant to be for emergencies only." He replied, letting his arms drop to his sides. He knew Dean well enough to know he'd get bored if he didn't fight back. Proving him right, he dropped the comic into Sam's lap and cross his arms.

"Dad's been gone for two weeks Sam! He didn't even enrol us in a school this time, just left us! You know how to shoot, it's time she learnt, she needs to be able to protect herself." He turned to walk away but turned back on an after thought.

"And if you tell him I swear I will burn your lucky underpants." He poked Sam in the chest for emphasis and glared.

"Plus, Hope wants to learn, don't you Hope?" The curly dark head appeared at his elbow, and came to perch on the wall beside Sam. She smiled and nodded, picking at the hem of of her shirt.

"I don't want to be a burden..." Sam shuffled closer and put his arm around her, giving her a squeeze. She looked up at him and grinned, leaning into the hug.

"When is John getting back? Have you heard from him?" She asked Dean hopefully. He shook his head and sat on the low wall on the other side of her, looking out at the muddy expanse of overgrown land behind their motel. He missed the disappointed look she gave him, her smile faltering and turning hard as she kicked a pebble frustratedly into the long grass.

It had been a long month of moving from town to town, constantly being told that this was where they would be parting ways and then being dragged off again because someone smelt sulphur, or there were scratch marks on a tree... She hated the emotional whiplash he was dragging her through. Plus John had been gone longer than they'd expected this time, and they were starting to run out of money for food, especially as they had actually had to buy her a couple more tops since the lady in the room next door had asked why she wore the same outfit every day.

She spotted a quarter half buried in the mud and bent to pick it up. Brushing off the dirt she tucked it in her back pocket and pushed away from the wall, shoving her hands in her pockets as she strolled off back towards the motel.

"This sucks!" She shouted over her shoulder, stepping into the long grass. She was so bored! What were they supposed to do all day for weeks?!

"Hope come back! Don't sulk..." Dean called after her, hopping down from the wall to chase after her. The long grass came up well past her waist and Dean suddenly had a bad feeling in his gut. He rushed forward, but before he could step into the grass she disappeared from his line of sight with a scream, dragged down into the grass.

"Hope!" He yelled, stumbling forward with thrashing arms, dragging the grass from side to side searching for her. The grass to his left rustled as something raced past. He pulled the gun from the back of his belt and swung it from left to right frantically, breathing heavily.

"Sam! Stay out of the grass! Get back to the motel now!" He yelled, terrified. He had no idea what was out there, or where Hope had gone and he needed to get out of the grass. He made a dash for the wall they'd been sitting on and nearly made it before a cold hand gripped his ankle and dragged him down. He shot blindly in that direction and felt whatever had him jerk slightly but carry on pulling, and the next thing he knew, everything went dark.

Dean came too with a start, trying to yank his hands out of their bindings. The room was too dark to see anything but he could smell damp and mould, and an underlying smell he vaguely recognised, something coppery and sour. He heard a quiet groan from somewhere to his left and swung his head round to search the darkness.

"H-hope?!" His voice shook slightly, but he took a deep breath and tried to get a grip on himself. He was a hunter, he wasn't allowed to be scared, he had to save Hope.

"Dean...?" The little voice that replied was thick with tears but made him audibly sigh with relief.

"Oh thank god, you're alive. Are you okay? Can you see anything?" He asked quietly, not wanting to draw attention to them in case whatever took them was nearby. He strained to reach into his pocket towards his flick knife, his fingers just brushing the wooden handle, but not quite getting close enough to grab it.

"Yeah, i'm- i'm fine... I can see... there's a lamp near me, I might be able to reach to turn it on if I scoot my chair... and there's... water? I think my feet are in water." He heard her slap her boots against the tiny bit of water on the floor and thought hard. What lived in dark, damp places, and took children...? The were a couple of things he could remember, but with most of them they would already be dead.

"Okay, Hope, quietly, really quietly try and get your chair close enough to the lamp to turn it on." He said, not bothering to whisper any more. If the creature was around it would already have heard them. He tried again to reach into his pocket while Hope threw her weight to the side, grunting as the heavy chair moved a fraction of an inch with each movement. After a minute or so she made a triumphant noise and used her mouth to pick up the switch on the lamps chord, flicking it on with her tongue.

Dean looked around him and gulped, not liking what he saw. They were in some kind of basement, surrounded by shelves full of junk, and dotted here and there was the occasional bloody knife had been discarded haphazardly on the floor. The were bloody hand prints smeared on the floor and walls, and Dean was pretty sure that was a bit of scalp by the door.

"Ummm, okay, Hope, can you reach anything sharp to cut yourself free?" He asked, trying to sound calm and failing. He heard a little whimper from his left and turned to look at Hope, who was staring wide eyed at the puddle of lumpy blood her feet sat in. He gagged slightly and had to take a second to keep himself from hyperventilating. He saw a jagged knife half on half off the shelf beside him and started heaving his chair closer to it.

"Don't look at it Hope, look at me, think of something else." He said between movements. She nodded and snapped her eyes up to him, shaking violently.

"Dean... Dean! I'm really scared, what's happening?" She hiccuped, her eyes locked on Dean as he managed to grab the bloody knife between his teeth, turning slightly green at the thought of who's blood it was touching his mouth. He dropped it into his lap just close enough for his fingers to drag it closer and turn it around, tucking it under the rope and start to saw. He glanced up at her and caught her big, terrified blue eyes for a second. They were pleading him to make all this go away, to make it stop happening.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better..." He sang shakily, continuing to saw at the rope. His mum used to sing 'Hey Jude' to him when he was scared as a kid, and even if it didn't help Hope, it had an odd soothing effect on him.

"Dean, what are you-"

"Shhh, I'm singing to you. Hey Jude, don't be afraid, you were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better." He flushed red as he continued. Just as he thought the cramp in his hand would stop him from making the last few stroked of the knife, the rope snapped, releasing his hand.

"Yes!" He said, reaching over to untie his other hand. He shot up out of the chair and rushed over to Hope, he had untied one of her hands when he was thrown backwards into one of the shelves.

"Dean!" Hope screamed, scrambling at the remaining rope.

A figured flickered in front of her eyes and reached forward to slash a hand across her cheek before disappearing again. She howled in pain and pressed her hand to her cheek, blood flowing freely over her fingers as she stumbled over to dean, digging him out from under the shelf with her free hand. There was a split in his eyebrow that bled sluggishly and he held his arm at a crooked angle against his chest. He was obviously in pain and just managing to cling to consciousness but he managed to pull himself up and use his good arm to pull Hope behind him.

"Shit... poltergeist..." He gasped, looking around him for any iron or salt. He spotted an old poker and grabbed it, brandishing it in front of him as a screeching laugh resonated through the room. Hope came out from behind him to hold up tiny shaking fists, making him laugh weekly.

"That still isn't going to work you know." She glared up at him and held her stance.

"Well, it-it makes me feel better." She stuttered. Her lip started to quiver so she sucked it between her teeth. The figure of a girl roughly Dean's age flickered into being in front of them, her hair hanging over her face in greasy strands. Her clothes were filthy and her hands were blood stained up to the elbow. Dean swung the poker at her as she reached towards them, making her scream and dissipate, reappearing on his other side to grab Hope's hair and pull her to the floor, screaming.

"Get off her!" Dean shouted, swinging the poker through her again. It gave him just enough time to drag Hope back to her feet and thrust the poker into her hand so he could grab a candlestick from another shelf.

"They can't touch anything iron! If she gets close, swing at her! Start heading for that door, we need to get out of this room." He said, shoving her towards the room's single entrance and exit. Hope stumbled slightly but righted herself and made a dash for it as Dean swung once more at the furious screaming spirit. She threw open the door to reveal a set of stairs straight up, a hatch at the top with the barest amount sunlight shining through the cracks.

"Dean come on! I can see light!" She screamed, turning to look at him. He was up against the wall, his feet off the floor as he clutched at his throat, struggling for the breath. The bloody girl stood in front of him, her hand raised. Panicking, Hope rushed forward and swung the poker, screaming. Dean dropped to the floor still clutching his arm to his chest as he scrambled to his feet, dropping the candlestick to grab Hope's arm and drag her up the stairs.

"The hatch is locked, just keep swinging that until I can break through." He demanded breathlessly, slamming his shoulder into the rotting wood. The pain was enough to make black spots start to appear in his vision but he could feel the hatch starting to give way. After a couple more shoves, he burst through the wood and flopped into the mud with a cry, Hope scrambling over him to drag him out onto the ground. She looked around her and spotted the wall they had been sitting on earlier in the distance, on the other side of the field. She also saw a big man sprinting towards them, a shot gun in his hand.

"John!" She screamed, Still trying to drag Dean out of the hatch. The girl flickered up 20 yards from them and rushed forward screeching. There was a painfully loud gunshot and she screamed frustratedly as she disappeared again, John stopping breathlessly beside them.

"Get the hell away from my kids." He said coldly, gathering Hope up into his arms before slinging her over his shoulder with one arm and using the other to pull Dean into a standing position, taking most of his weight.

"If she's running around out here then we need to get out of this field and find her bones. Come on, we need to hurry" he grunted, dragging Dean over to the fence, steering clear of the long grass.

"Come on Dean, not much further!"

He kicked down a section of the old wooden perimeter and stumbled through it, let Dean slump to the floor at his feet as he lowered Hope off of his shoulder.

She immediately started babbling and making excuses.

"I didn't know she was there I'm so sorry please don't send me away I didn't mean to get Dean hurt but I think he broke his arm I didn't know what to do-" He dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms, her chatter turning into sobs as her head hit his shoulder. With one arm around her tiny shaking frame, he reached down to gently slap Dean's face with the other, waking him up.

"Come on, Dean, stay awake, you're safe now." He said, trying to catch his breath still. Dean nodded and dragged himself into a sitting position with a yelp.

"Where's Sammy?" He gasped through the pain, using his dad's arm to pull himself onto his knees.

"He managed to make it back to the motel room and called me. I dropped everything but it still took me a few hours to drive back here, I'm so sorry." He pulled Dean onto his other shoulder, ignoring his son's muffled cry as he jostled his broken arm.

"I'm so glad you're both alive, I should never have stayed away for so long, but there was this case up in Minnesota and... well it doesn't matter, you're both alive. I couldn't bare to lose either of you." Eventually, Hope stopped crying and pulled away from John, hiccuping tragically. The bloody claw marks across her face looked raw and she was clearly in shock, but she clenched her hand into his jacket, shaking.

"Does that mean I can stay?" She asked pathetically. John just pulled her close again and nodded.

"I guess it does kid."

With John and Sam gone to salt and burn the poltergeist's bones Dean and Hope were left alone in the motel room to pack everything up and get ready to move on. John had put a couple of quick stitches in Dean's forehead and his arm was strapped to his body awaiting a trip to the hospital to set it, while Sam had coated Hope's face with antiseptic cream. The cuts were deep, and parts probably needed stitching too, but there was a difference between putting a couple of stitches in his 14 year old son's eyebrow and stitching across the middle of an 8 year old girl's face, so John had left that well enough alone.

Dean dropped down on the bed beside her still looking particularly pale and sweaty and threw his good arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"You know, I think you might be the bravest person I have ever met..." He said quietly, looking at his feet. He felt her lean against him, her head turning so her forehead rested on his chest.

"I was so scared... I couldn't move." She whispered, the occasional shake still making it's way up her spine.

"But I just wanted to say... Thanks. For singing to me. It really helped." Dean chuckled and rubbed her arm comfortingly.

"Yeah, my mum used to sing that to me when I was really little... But um, don't tell anyone, okay? I've got a reputation to live up to." A car horn sounded outside, making both of them jump. Dean grabbed two bags in his good arm, letting Hope grab the other two and open the door.

"Well, come on princess, hospital awaits." He said sarcastically, following her out to the car.

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**Thanks for reading, please review! **

**Much love xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi again! Sorry for the delay, uni has really been riding me the last week or so! But here it is, at last! It's a bit of a filler chap I'm afraid, but hopefully you like it. Once again, please ready and review, and PLEASE send in requests for what you want to see from the Winchester clan in the future! I think the next chapter will probably bring Bobby into the equation, and I'd like to look at when Dean got sent to the boys home and when Sam ran away, but all prompts are welcome! **

**Anywho, enjoy! **

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Hope stared up at the emergency room sign and gulped. In all her eight years she had not once stepped foot in a hospital, what with her dad being a paranoid bastard. He was always saying that they were a trap, that the doctors would steal your blood and do experiments on you. And though Hope knew he had started to lose his mind a little towards the end, the paranoia and the stress finally getting to him, eight years of brain washing had left her a little nervous. The big warm hand resting between her shoulder blades gave another little shove, but she lent back into it, shaking her head.

"No... don't want to " She said petulantly, turning back towards the car. John gripped her shoulder and held her in place.

"Now come on Hope, don't be childish. You and Dean both need help... doesn't your face hurt?" Though she wouldn't admit it, the throbbing in her face had reached a merciless new high, but she shook her head again and crossed her arms.

"I AM a child..." She said sullenly.

John huffed and crouched down so their eyes met, keeping his grip on her shoulder.

"Right, spill, what's so bad you'd rather stand out here with a big hole in your face than go inside, where the nice doctors will have something to make the pain go away? Hm?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Hope flushed slightly and looked at her feet, the heat in her cheeks making the blood thump painfully against the scratches on her face. She mumbled something to her feet that John didn't quite catch, at least, what he heard didn't make a scrap of sense so he must have heard wrong.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, titling his ear towards her slightly. Her eyes flicked up to his and immediately back down to her feet.

"They're going to steal my blood..." She muttered a little louder. Nope, he'd heard right the first time.

"Why in God's name would you think that?" He demanded, making her flinch.

"My pa told me... He said that because I'm different they would try and keep me and steal my blood." She said, embarrassed. John's eyebrows twitched with curiosity but he tried to stay casual, not wanting to startle her out of revealing important information. He had no idea what her father had been, it was nothing he'd ever seen before, and there was a part of him that still feared she was going to flip and hurt his boys. But so far he hadn't seen anything strange from her, not so much as a peanut allergy. If she knew something though...

"Different how?" He asked nonchalantly.

"He never told me... just said I was special." She shrugged, not wanting to talk about this any more. The throbbing behind her face was getting worse, one of the gashes still bleeding sluggishly, and Dean had gone terribly pale again, looking faint. She really didn't want to go inside, but if it helped Dean... her resolve to remain outside was starting to crumble. John looked disappointed at her answer, but her dad was still a sore topic for her...

"Well let's just keep all that between us okay? The doctors don't need to know, we don't want them asking questions." He steered her over to the bench Dean was leaning heavily against, trying to look cool despite the sheen of sweat covering his waxy yellow complexion.

"Okay, run through the plan again. When you're asked, what do you say happened?"

"We were in a car wreck, you swerved to avoid something and we hit a tree." Hope recited, pressing her fingers to her hot face. John gently pulled her sticky hand away and held onto it.

"Stop touching it. And what are your names?"

Dean coughed and held up his hand like he was in class. John sighed with exasperation but humoured him.

"Yes, Dean?"

"David and Helen Harrison, and you are our dad, Mark." He gritted his teeth and groaned. The pain was starting to get the better of him and he knew that despite how much he wanted this to be over, he was facing a good few hours of painful prodding and poking before he was released. John reached out with his free hand to steady his son,

"Breathe though it son... if they ask you anything else send them to me or pretend you've forgotten. Come on, let's get you inside before you pass out." He put his arm around Dean, taking most of his weight and took off towards the door, feeling a little hand slip itself into his, He looked down at Hope's torn face and into her pleading eyes, giving her a lopsided smile.

"Come on Kid, everything will be fine. I promise I won't let them steal your blood." She gave him a slightly skeptical look and let him lead her through the electronic doors, Sam walking close behind in case she tried to bolt.

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

The administrative nurse behind the desk took one look at the motley band that had just dragged themselves awkwardly into her emergency room and signalled an orderly to bring them a wheelchair. He rushed forward and guided Dean into it with such a no nonsense gesture that the teen didn't even think to argue, just did as he was bid.

"Please... I lost control of the car and we- and we..." To pay John his dues, his shocked father performance was Oscar worthy as he desperately gripped the orderly's hand, holding Hope to his side with a shaking arm.

"You need to calm down sir, everything's going to be just fine. If you could just follow me this way we'll get you straight to a doctor." He pushed Dean's chair into motion down the hallway, the rest of the Winchesters trailing after him into an exam room where a doctor in a white coat already waited.

"Right, straight to business. This young man needs to go down to x-ray immediately please Simon, " He said, gesturing to Dean, who tried to argue but thought better of it when he caught his dad's eyes.

"It's all right David, we'll be right here." John said, a hardness in his voice that was enough warning for Dean to get the message. Simon the orderly nodded and wheeled a very nauseous looking Dean back out of the room.

"Okay I'm Dr. Peterson, can you tell me what happened." The doctor said, wheeling his chair up so that he was sitting directly in front of John who had Hope anchored in between his legs, her hands gripping his knees in terror. He felt her muscles tense as she considered making a run for it and tightened his grip. The doctor snapped a glove onto his hand and scooted himself a little closer so she was trapped like a sheep in pen between him and John.

"I honestly don't know, I saw something in the road and panicked... me and Steven here got out unharmed." He reached out a hand to pull Sam down into the seat next to him.

"But Helen and David... Oh god." He said shakily, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hope was impressed, either the theatre lost a fantastic actor when John became a hunter or he had done this a few too many times...

"Okay, you must be Helen." The doctor said, placing a gentle hand on her chin and tilting her head back slightly so he could get a better view. Hope wanted to just nod, but his hand holding her chin was in the way.

"Yes sir..." She answered quietly, flinching as his thumb touched the corner of the deepest scratch. She struggled a little against their combined grip, trying to duck out and run but he smiled kindly down at her.

"There's no need to be afraid sweetheart, this will be over before you know it." He assured her, scooting backwards slightly so she didn't feel quite so trapped.

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to need a few stitches Helen, but it's nothing to worry about, you won't feel a thing, and if you take good care of it afterwards it will probably not even scar." She started to hyperventilate as he rolled himself over to a cabinet by the door and began laying out utensils onto a stainless steel tray. A little hand rested itself on top of hers and she turned to look at Sam, who gave her a reassuring smile, his fingers lacing with hers. It helped, calming her slightly, but her breathing still came fast and heavy as the doctor scooted back over, tray in hand.

"Well, young man, you may want to look away, but sir I would appreciate if kept a hold of your daughter." the doctor said, picking up a small needle and syringe. The second Hope saw it she baulked, trying to slip out of John's hands. He gripped her tight and lowered his his face to her ear.

"Close your eyes kid, it's just an anaesthetic." He whispered, dropping a comforting kiss onto an unmarked part of her cheek. She heard him but continued to freak, thrashing in his grip. He moved his hands so that one was around her chest and the other around her hips, holding her tight to his body.

"Sorry doc, she's not great with needles..." John apologised, intermittently making soothing noises into her ear. Dr. Peterson nodded and as fast as possible discharged the syringe of anaesthetic into her cheek. Judging by the way she didn't stop thrashing for a second while he did it, he guessed she hadn't felt a thing. He chuckled quietly to himself and put a hand on her shoulder.

"See, not that bad, you didn't even notice me do it." There was a slightly patronising note to his voice, but Hope allowed it, slowly calming enough to stop thrashing and screaming in John's grip. He sighed in relief, his arms had been starting to cramp gripped so tightly around her.

"You've- you've already done it?" She asked quietly, confused. Dr. Peterson smiled and nodded, rooting around the tray.

"You won't feel a thing now. But you might want to close your eyes for the rest, it can pretty scary seeing the needle coming towards you." Hope nodded, ever the brave little soldier. She kind of like the doctor, he didn't seem the sort to steal her blood and conduct nefarious experiments on her. All the same, when he lifted the needle to thread it with surgical thread she whimpered and gripped tighter on John's knee, glad that he still had his arms around her. She was sure if he hadn't been holding her she would have slithered to the floor like a dead snake. She snapped her eyes shut and scrunched up her face, waiting to feel the needle pierce her skin.

"Sweetheart, you're going to have to relax your face a little or you're going to end up stuck like that." The Dr joked. Hope instantly unscrunched her face, taking his words 100% seriously. She felt a slight tugging feeling at her forehead and relaxed a little, if this was what having stitches felt like she hoped that she could have all her future injuries stitched too, instead of having to wait for them to heal.

After a few minutes she felt a tug that had a certain finality to it and opened her eyes in time to see him cut the thread on her chin.

"Can I see it?" She asked excitedly, her earlier fear a thing of the past. She felt John laugh silently behind her as the doctor pulled a small hand held mirror out of the cabinet and hold it up in front of her. Tentatively she touched the stitches, not really feeling anything yet while the anaesthetic was still in effect. It wasn't nearly as bad as she'd thought. Sure, there were four deep gouges that split her face in half diagonally from the corner of her forehead down to her jaw on the opposite side, but only little chunks of it had actually warranted stitching. Once again John gently pulled her hand away from her face and held it, giving her a tired smile.

"Don't touch it!" He told her, chuckling quietly. She blushed and lent against him, finally letting go of her death grip on his knee with her other hand.

"I didn't mean to make a fuss..." She told him. John just shook his head and glanced up at the doctor, worried she would say something that gave them away.

"There, all finished, and like I said, if you take good care of that, I doubt it will scar. But now the excitement is over, I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal you dad away for a few minutes to talk about some grown up things." The doctor produced a clip board with a particularly hefty wadge of paper on it, waving it apologetically at John, who just sighed and manoeuvred Hope out from between his legs so he could stand.

"No problem Doc. Sweetie, you wait here quietly with your brother." He said sternly to Hope, sitting her in the seat he'd just vacated next to Sam. He gave both of them a look the fathers seem to instinctually know a pointed a finger at them.

"I will be just outside this room... behave yourselves..." He warned. Both nodded innocently. He huffed and followed the doctor into the hall, muttering.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they sat waiting for John to return. After a little while though, as the anaesthetic started to wear off Hope began to shift uncomfortably in her seat, her hand reaching half way up to her face before going to grip the edge of the chair. Sam Stood up and began searching the room for something.

"What are you looking for?" Hope asked curiously, her eyes following him around the room as he opened draws and rummaged in cabinets. He just turned and gave her a mischievous smile.

"You know, the first time I ever had to have stitches was because I tripped getting out of the car and put my hand in some broken glass. It was nothing major, but dad wasn't quite so... confident with his needle back then so he took me to the hospital just in case. They ended up giving me about three stitches and a pat on the head and you know what?" He chuckled and shook his head, plunging his arm to the back of a cupboard.

"I screamed the whole time, I mean from start to finish even though I couldn't feel anything- Aha!" He produced a big jar of candy and shook it at her triumphantly. Coming to sit next to her he unscrewed the lid and delved in, rooting around.

"But, I guess what I'm trying to say, is that you were awesome back there. And not only do you look like a super villain with those scratches, which is crazy cool, you saved my brother's life... our brothers life. You definitely deserve some candy for that, so quick, fill your pockets before dad gets back."

She didn't know what to say... She was pretty sure nobody had ever been as consistently nice to her as the Winchester brothers and she definitely was not equipped to reply to something like that. He'd said "our brother"... "our"... She had a brother... She had two brothers! A family!

Sensing that a hallmark moment was approaching Sam coughed awkwardly and started stuffing her pockets with candy, blushing.

He was just closing the cupboard door again when the sound of footsteps entering the room startled him back around.

"I wasn't doing anything!" He blurted, putting his hands up in surrender. His dad raised an eyebrow at him, dragging Dean into the room by his good arm, the other encased in plaster.

"That doesn't look like behaving yourse-"

"Guys! Check it out! My arm is a weapon!" Dean shouted over his dad, grinning foolishly as he smacked his arm repeatedly against the metal frame of a chair, filling the room with a painful clanging. Sam took the opportunity to edge closer to Hope, putting himself slightly behind her in the hopes his dad would forget how terrible he was at lying...

"Dean! Cut it out or a will cut that damn thing off! We need to leave, now. They're asking question about insurance and something about calling social services." He shoved a pharmacy bag in his pocket and dragged Dean into the middle of the room, holding out his other hand to Hope.

"Let's go kid."

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**I'm not too thrilled with the ending, but it's here!**

**Tell me what you think!**

**Much love, **

**Liné**


	6. Chapter 6

**Finally chapter 6 is here! This one ended up a little longer than previous chapters, it just kinda ran away with me there... **

**Sorry it took so long to update, as per usual uni is riding me particularly hard at the moment so this was scribbled in about 4 different note books over the course of some very boring lectures... **

**I hope you guys like it, and thank you so much to all the people who have supported the story so far, honestly, your reviews are so lovely they are my main driving force to keep this going. Thank you thank you thank you, I love all of you. **

**Keep the review and suggestions coming, I love to here from you!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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"John you can't just dump your kids here for an indefinite amount of time and expect me to be okay with it!" Hope pressed her nose against the impala's window, breathing out a patch of fog onto the glass. She could see John gesticulating at the older man on the porch but couldn't quite hear what he said, though she could guess. She might have only been with the Winchesters a couple of months now, but she was coming to understand the feeling of being a burden. She saw it in Sam's eyes too, saw how hard he tried to impress his dad and how he never got any praise in return. She didn't see it so much in Dean, but it was there none-the-less, the look of a child striving for approval.

She pulled away from the window to draw her finger through the fog, sketching a wonky star.

"You shouldn't do that... dad doesn't like it when we get the windows dirty." She turned to look at Sam and chuckled quietly, using her sleeve to wipe the window clean again. John was certainly precious about his stupid car, that was for sure, and she was learning not to get on his bad side.

"Who's he talking to?" She asked curiously, pointing at the tubby man standing on the porch of the run down house, a baseball cap perched on the top of his head. Sam scooted across the seat so that he was beside her at the window and grinned.

"That's uncle Bobby, the one who gave me the colouring pencils. He's really nice, you'll like him. He's kinda grumpy all the time, but real nice. We stay with him sometimes when dad goes away..." Hope couldn't help but like Bobby just from the hero worship in Sam's voice. She glanced up at Bobby and frowned. He didn't look like much, he was probably in his late forties, early fifties though Hope had hardly met more than a handful of people in her life so she couldn't be certain. She absently scratched at the healing stitches on her face, wincing slightly as she caught the edge of a scab.

"Why is he cross? Doesn't he want us to stay?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly as she observed the two men conversing. She cracked the window a little so she could hear what they said, their voices just reaching her across the junk yard.

"I've got a lead Bobby... Demon signs up in Washington. This could be my chance and I can't risk Sammy like that, we still don't know what yellow eyes wanted back in the nursery the night Mary..." He faltered, pacing back and forth across the porch, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Bobby sighed and his offensive stance relaxed a little, throwing his arms up in an age old gesture of surrender.

"Fine! I'll take the boys but you'd better make it quick or I'll- What? Why do you look guilty?" He stopped mid sentence to glare at John, who lifted his hand to rub the hair at the nape of his neck awkwardly and smiled apologetically at Bobby. The older man was instantly on guard again. He'd known John Winchester long enough to recognize that face.

"No John, whatever it is, hell no." He warned, standing a little taller in the hopes the stubborn hunter would back down.

"Well, you see Bobby... It's not just the boys anymore..." He stepped aside so Bobby could scan the occupants of the car.

There was Dean in the front seat, his feet up on the dash as he repeatedly jammed a pen into the opening of his cast, trying to scratch an itch. The corner of Bobby's mouth twitched in the threat of a smile at the oldest boy, but stilled again as his eyes flicked to the back seat. He could see Sam, apparently arguing with himself... He took a step closer, squinting through the sun's glare on the impala's windows as a dark, curly head popped into view, turning to reveal a beaming girl. She triumphantly held aloft a piece of candy in one hand as with the other she pinned Sam down on the seat.

Bobby watched in disbelief, glancing up at John only for a second before his eyes were drawn back to the pretty little girl, whose hysterical laughter didn't quite reach across the distance.

"Is she- Is she... yours?" He mumbled, caught in her spell.

"I wish... It sure would make this whole damn situation easier... She's just a stray. I found her half dead in the woods a couple of months back." Bobby swung round to face John, jabbing at his chest with one stubby finger.

"A stray?! What the hell were you thinking?!" He shouted, gesticulating wildly.

"Take her to the police, social services, something, John! I know less than nothing about little girls but I sure as hell know you can't just keep them ya idjit! She ain't a pet to keep the boys busy!" John groaned and went back to pacing the length of the porch, one hand running through his hair in frustration as the other clenched and unclenched at his side, never taking his eyes of the car.

"You think I don't know that Bobby? Believe me, I do! But I couldn't just let her loose..." He paused, unsure how to say his piece without Bobby filling him full of salt were he stood. He eyes flicked to the shotgun propped by the door as he Sighed and just blurted it.

"I'm not so sure she's human." Bobby reached out and grabbed John's arms, stopping him in his tracks.

"You're wearing a damn hole in my porch, settle down! What do you mean not human, John, 'cause I sure as hell ain't taking her if she's a danger!"

John snatched his arm back out of Bobby's grip and dropped down into a rickety old lawn chair, near enough to the shotgun he'd reach it before Bobby if the need arose.

"She's not dangerous, I'm sure of it. I have no idea what she is... or if she's anything to worry about at all, but how I found her was... off. I've never seen it before Bobby, and I know if anyone can find out more, it's you... I need you to do the book work." He looked imploringly up at bobby, who stood unconvinced. He let his head drop into his hands with a tired sigh.

"Please, Bobby... Dean doesn't get his cast off for another couple of weeks and I can't leave them alone if he can't protect them. I just need to follow up on these leads and I'll be back, I swear... Please... She's just a kid..." Bobby took in the bags under John's eyes, the slight tremor in his hands as he looked up at him, pleading, weary to the bone and sighed. Sometimes he wished he'd never met John Winchester, but in all honesty, he loved those boys like his own and couldn't stand to see them treated the way they were, like soldiers. The thought of John taking in another one, a little girl and treating her the same made his skin crawl, but it wasn't his place to question. He slapped John on the shoulder and turned into the house.

"Well what are ya waiting for? Get them inside before they wreck your precious car." He grumbled, letting the screen door sing shut behind him. John let the slightest of smug smiles flicker at his lips before pushing himself out of the chair, striding towards the car.

"Dean! Get your damn feet of my dash or so help me you're in the back with the kids from now on." He shouted, swinging the door open and grabbing a fist full of his collar, giving him a little shake for emphasis.

"Alright alright! God..." Dean griped, abandoning the itch inside his cast as he stepped out of the car, straightening his jacket indignantly. Like a cat pretending it hadn't just fallen off a window ledge he swaggered up towards the house, turning his collar up and shoving his hands in his pockets. John grinned and shook his head, opening the back door of the impala and waving a hand towards the house.

"Come on, into the house with ya." He held out a hand to Hope as she climbed down but she ignored it, jumping down onto the packed dirt with a grin, Sam climbing out behind her. They raced up to the house, playfully shoving one another as they went. John had to admit it was kinda nice seeing Sam so happy... he knew it was hard for his boy to make friends, what with them moving so often and him knowing about the nether world, so it had been a while since he'd Sam actually play, not just sit and read, or draw... It was good to hear them laugh. Hope seemed to be a good influence of his boys, that much was clear, he watched as she caught Sam's arm as he stumbled up the steps, the two of them giggling as he brushed off his knees and continued through the dirty old screen door. Life had once again dealt him a bum hand, but he was a Winchester, so he'd be damned if he didn't take what he had and make the most of it. He took a step towards the house, going to follow the kids inside but instead stopped and lent back against the side of the car, looking up the patches of blue sky inbetween the clouds. Mary would have known what to do... She always knew what to do. He sighed and look back down at the dirt floor, rubbing the blind spots out of his eyes from the brightness as he turned and opened the car door, sliding himself into the drivers seat. There was no point in goodbyes, he'd be back in a couple of weeks, hopefully with some closure.

"Hey dad! Bobby wants to know if you've got-" Dean poked his head round the door just in time to see the Impala speed out of the salvage yard, kicking up a cloud of dust as it turned the corner. He knew he shouldn't have been angry, he was used to his dad just taking off like this, but even so his jaw clenched tight as he jumped down the steps to grab their bags, which had been left unceremoniously in the middle of the drive way and turn back into the house, slamming the door hard behind him.

Hope stood awkwardly in the middle of the dark living room, digging her booted toe into the carpet as Bobby looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on the healing scratches across her face which looked sore and itchy. He sighed and took a step forward, his hand outreached to grip her chin and get a better look. Though she was getting better with people, she wasn't quite at the stage where she would let a strange man touch her face, no matter how much Sam loved him, and ducked out from under his grip, diving passed him into the kitchen where Dean was already rummaging through the fridge.

"Hey! Don't touch my beers" He warned the teen in passing as he followed the newest Winchester, spotting her squished under the table looking embarrassed.

"I'm 14 now... dad lets me." Dean grumbled, instead grabbing a can of soda and huffing out of the kitchen while Bobby shifted a chair out of the way to crouch down beside the table.

"You are a terrible liar Dean Winchester, now go find your brother, you kids need the riot act before I set you loose on my house." He called over his shoulder, before turning his attention back to Hope, who was clearly already regretting this decision, her blush having reached a particularly impressive shade.

"Okay kid, let's make one thing absolutely clear from the get go, I ain't gonna hurt you, you have my word. As long as you are in my care you'll be safe." He reached a hand under the table to her which she took with only a moments hesitation, letting him pull her out. Once she was standing beside him he very slowly lifted a hand to her face again and gently tilted her chin. He gave a sympathetic hiss and let go.

"Well, kid, you should really be rubbing some ointment in those or you'll find yourself with a hefty scar when you're 20, but lucky for you I think I have some somewhere... What's you're name hun?" In a show of surprising confidence she stuck one of her tiny pale hands for him to shake and stood her ground, make the old hunter chuckle.

"Hope Eddison... Winchester?" She stumbled slightly over the last name, not entirely sure if she was supposed to have used that first. For the last couple of months for all intents and purposes she'd been the third Winchester child, John had drilled into her to use whatever surname they all went by for the sake of safety, and she was getting pretty good at it, but if this man was their friend then did it matter...? She did kind of like calling herself a Winchester, but then, her last name was all she had left of her real dad. Bobby just continued to chuckle as he used the table to pull himself up again, the two Winchester boys skidding round the corner into the kitchen and landing in a heap beside them.

"Nice to meet you, Hope Eddison Winchester, I'm Bobby Singer, but you can just call me Uncle Bobby, these apes do." He grunted, bending down to grip Sam's arm and haul him up to a standing position, brushing him down as Dean tried to look dignified.

"Now, boys, you should know the rules by now but we'll go through them for Miss Hope's sake. Rule 1, no touching my beer, Dean I'm looking at you. Rule 2, do not, except in the agreed emergencies touch the gun rack, the knives, or ANYTHING in the cupboards marked 'Dangerous: Do not touch'. Rule 3, ask before you read my books, some of the stuff in there is guaranteed to give even you boys nightmares- Dean stop snorting, you ain't as hard as you think- Rule 4, Do not leave the house without telling me where you're off to, not only are there dangerous folks around, but this is a working salvage yard, not a playground. Rule 5, I swear to all that is holy and good in this world if I catch you near my skin mags I will trade you in for a bottle of whiskey Dean, I ain't kidding this time!" He pointed a stern finger Dean's way and stared him down.

"Fine! They're old and lame anyway..." Dean grumbled in surrender, refusing to make eye contact.

"I'm going to shoot cans in the yard." Bobby slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning.

"What did I literally just say about guns boy?! Go read a book- a nice book! Or watch T.V!" He shouted as Dean strolled out of the kitchen towards the living room again, throwing himself down onto the faded old couch.

"God I hate teenagers... Sammy, why don't you go watch T.V? I need to talk to Hope for a bit." Sam frowned and nodded as he reluctantly left the room, glancing over his shoulder in case he missed anything interesting. Bobby made a shooing motion with his hands and turned back to Hope, who looked up at him quizzically.

"Why do you need to talk to me?" She asked curiously, settling into the chair he pulled out for her at the kitchen table. He took of his tatty old baseball cap to ruffle the grey hair underneath and replace then replaced it, a nervous tick.

"Well Hope, we- me and John- have some questions we really need to ask you, about growing up, and your dad..." Her feet swinging under the chair stilled as she gripped the edge of the chair, her knuckles turning white under the pressure. He brow furrowed a little as she shook her head and looked down at her feet in shame. She didn't want to be a burden, but neither did she want to talk about her dad. She hadn't worked up the courage to tell either of the boys about how much she missed him, let alone John, and she wasn't ready to go digging up the past. Instead she lied, refusing to meet eye contact.

"I... I don't remember." She said quietly, hearing him sigh and drop into the chair beside her.

"Well I know that ain't the truth." He said, not unkindly as he pulled a battered old notepad and biro out of his jeans pocket. He cleared his throat and flicked to a clear page, resting pen on paper.

"Okay... an easy one. What was your dad's name?" Hope looked up at him and shrugged, this time telling the truth.

"I don't know, I just called him dad... I guess his last name was Eddison, like mine... that's what he introduced himself as if we ever met anyone..." She sat forward a little in her chair, watching him scribble down a note in a series of strange symbols on the pad. She reached forward with one hand to turn the pad slightly towards her as the other still gripped the edge of the chair keeping her upright.

"What language is that?" She asked, slightly awed. Bobby chuckled and pulled the pad back his way.

"It's shorthand, it's like special code that makes it faster to write. What about your mom? Do you remember her." Hope seemed to be settling slightly, coming out of her shell. He was trying to keep the questions fairly neutral until she relaxed completely in his company. Again she shrugged, the tension in her legs gradually fading as they began to swing again, making her whole body turn slightly from side to side with each movement.

"I don't know, I never met her. Dad said she went to be with the rest of his family when I was born. He always got sad when I asked, so I stopped asking, but he was mostly sad all the time anyway." Her eyes were glued to the paper as he wrote, following each stroke of the pen. She liked this code language, it was pretty, and fast... she would try and learn it before John got back and surprise him.

"Did your mother die...?" Bobby asked carefully, not wanting to push her away but wanting to clear up his suspicions.

"I don't know... maybe."

"Okay... Uh... can you remember anything strange about your dad?" Hope shuffled uncomfortably and glanced over at the window, then the fridge before turning back to him with a too bright smile.

"Hey uncle Bobby can I have a soda?" She asked, trying to change the subject. Bobby sighed and shook his head.

"If you answer a few more questions you can have as many sodas as you like. Now, was there anything strange about you Pa?" There was a little more force behind the question this time, the fact that she'd tried to change the subject was promising, it meant she was trying to hide something. Her lower lip wobbled slightly but she bit it and slumped into her seat.

"My Pa was always strange! He didn't let me talk to people, he only ever let us live in stupid, dirty old run down huts in the middle of the forest and he never let me go to school! He said it was too dangerous, that people would come looking for us, and we had to keep moving because we were being watch! Always being watched, he said! I never got to make friends, or even talk to people! Once I jumped out of a tree in the hopes I would hurt myself bad enough that he'd have to take me to hospital be he just shouted at me and then this glowing light came out of him and it didn't hurt anymore so I-" She had really gotten herself worked up, her face red with anger and humiliation. Her entire life so far had been a complete embarrassment, just a long list of how her crazy over protective dad had kept her a prisoner in the woods with nothing but T.V for company. But the one thing he had always stressed over every single one of his stupid rules was that if she met anyone, never to talk about him. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as she panicked. She'd broken the cardinal rule. She looked at the paper Bobby was frantically scribbling on and in a moment of mad impulse grabbed it and hopped out of the chair, making a run for the door.

"Hope no! Bring that back right now!" Bobby shouted after her, his creaky knees complaining as he chased her out of the kitchen and through the front door into the junk yard.

Hope barely ever cried, her dad had always told her off for crying, said it was beneath her, but right now she didn't care. She raced through the abandoned motors, ducking under bits of rusting car until she found a suitable nook to wedge herself into and with a grunt pulled a piece of rusty old corrugated metal over the opening. With shaking hands she began tearing pages out of the notebook, ripping them into tiny pieces and letting them fall into pile at her feet as she choked back gut wrenching sobs. Now she'd done it! Dad always told her she had to stay calm and not let her emotions get the better of her, that they were a weakness she had to learn to control. She had let them get the better of her and she'd said too much! Now these kind people who'd taken her in wouldn't be kind anymore, they'd cut into her like her dad had warned.

"Hope!" She heard Bobby's voice in the distance and tried to get her breathing under control, not wanting him to hear the sobs that currently shook her tiny frame. She had to get a grip, crying was for the weak. She used the sleeve of her hoody to clean her face and settled her features into a determined scowl.

"Hope where are you?" Dean's voice now. She tilted her ear towards the noise, her expression softening slightly as she picked up an element of fear in the question. Fear for her safety, or fear of her... She didn't know.

"Hope come on, it's not safe out here on your own!" His voice was closer now, too close. Carefully she shoved the piece of metal out of the way, wincing as it creaked loudly and made a dash for it across the expanse of dirt road to get to a new hiding place before he rounded the corner, but was just a fraction too slow. Dean instantly picked up into a sprint as you flashed passed in his peripherals.

"Hope stop running! It's me!" He shouted, diving under a car after her. His hand wrapped around her ankle and sighed in relief as he pulled her back out, thrashing.

"Let me go please don't hurt me please don't hurt me." She repeated, her eyes squeezed shut. Dean panicked and yanked her up into his arms, clutching her tight to his chest. He had never seen her freak out like this, not even when she'd had a demon dragging her through a grocery store.

"Why would I hurt you?" He demanded, tightening his grip as she tried to squirm free.

"Bobby I found her! Come quick! Calm down Hope, we're not gonna hurt you! Jesus you are strong for an eight year old..."

Bobby rounded the corner and dropped to his knees beside them, putting a reassuring hand on the back of her head as he made soothing noises.

"Hey hey hey! Calm down kid, you're safe! I gave you my word didn't I?" Hope buried her face into Dean's shoulder and nodded, her breathing coming fast and hard.

"But my dad said-" Bobby cut her of with a string of curse words that were impressive enough to shock her into looking up at him in awe for a second before burying her face back into Dean's shirt.

"Well it sure sounds like your daddy said a lot of damn stupid things if you ask me." He grumbled, looking around and spotting the heap of torn notes which elicited another bout of cursing.

"Urgh! I hadn't written most of those notes up yet... Damn it... Come on kid, I promise not to ask any more questions today if you just come back inside and stop destroying my work..." She didn't reply just stayed concealed in the faded black material of Dean's old t-shirt.

"Umm... I'll let you... take one of my pocket knives, if you promise to be careful. Would you feel safe then?" He bartered, fishing in his pockets for the smaller of his two flick knives. It was nothing special and certainly wouldn't do too much damage in the hands of an eight year old, it was however solid silver and fairly pricey but if it calmed her down he was happy to sacrifice it to the cause. Hesitantly Hope turned her face just enough to see him out of the corner of one eye and nodded, holding out her hand for the knife. Bobby dropped it onto her palm and took a step back, his hands up to show he held nothing as she turned herself fully away from Dean, still resting against him as she inspected the blade. Satisfied, she shoved the knife into her pocket, keeping her fist clenched tight around it.

"Sorry..." She mumbled, looking in the complete opposite direction of him, up at the house. The old hunter shook his head and grunted.

"For tearing up my notes or getting yourself in a state because that sure escalated quickly. You're pretty fast..." He chuckled quietly to himself and slapped a hand onto Dean's free shoulder, using it to heave himself up from the floor with a groan and limp back towards the house.

Hope looked up apologetically at Dean and sighed, her old scratches on her face aching from the salty tears and dust that was creeping in at the edges. She lifted a hand to scratch at them but Dean gently batted it away with a tired smile.

"I panicked..." She muttered, looking just past his head instead of at him. Dean chuckled softly and looked down.

"Wow, you are settling in fine as a Winchester, we're all completely screwed up and terrible with this feelings crap..." He hesitated and sighed, not really equipped at 14 years old to be having this conversation but trying to find the words anyway.

"Look, Hope... We've known you were... different from the moment dad found you, two whole months ago. Don't you think if we were going to hurt you we'd have done it by now?" She shuffled her feet awkwardly in the dirt and nodded, still not making eye contact.

"Sure, we kinda need to find out what we can about you, just so we can learn how to protect you, so we can understand. I swear, us Winchesters protect our family and you're a Winchester now whether you like it or not." He ruffled her hair and stood up, pulling her close to his side in a show of brotherly rough love and leading her back up to the house.

"Come on, I know where Bobby hides the ice cream."

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**Hope you guys liked it! Finally finding out a little more about Hope's past!**

**If you have a moment please drop me a review, I love to hear feedback :) **

**Much love! **

**Liné**


	7. Author's note: Don't Panic!

**Hey guys! This is just a quick apology!**

**Sorry it's been so long between updates, everything's gone to shit at uni and I'm having to reshoot and edit my entire dissertation film in the next two weeks, because my camera man accidentally deleted all the footage. Sooo, I'm going to have to take a little break just until I get it sorted so I can focus on not failing out of my last year at university. I promise, I have not forgotten you, not at all, in fact, I have half a chapter already written, but it's just going to take a little longer to get finished between editing, filming, lectures, essays, presentations etc etc. **

**As soon as I have a spare moment, I'm all yours again though and I promise some nice hefty, angsty, brother/sister-lovey, monster hunting chapters. Okay? As always, my inbox is always open for requests, or if you just want a chat and i'll try and check in and reply to anything at least every couple of days. **

**Sorry to make you wait, but I'll be back soon! **

**Much love, **

**Liné xx**


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